The Watcher rejoiced when it saw the ones it had been following escape. It could not come too close however, sensing the Other's agitation, knowing that His senses were heightened now. It dared not come too close for risk of being detected.
But it was patient and hovered out of range, shadowing them, and once, greatly daring, darted ahead.
The Watcher sensed danger in the air, and frustrated, could not warn nor defend. It had orders only to watch and track the Master's prey.
Milgazia jogged to a stop, feeling a sense of tension in the air. Something zipped overhead, but posed no threat, passing them by in a mere instant. Calming himself down after the initial alarming surge of adrenaline, he forced himself to discipline. The feeling of danger had not left, so he thrust himself as flat as possible against the trunk of the nearest tree, listening for anything out of the ordinary.
If he had been human, he would have missed the low whispers of deep, male voices. He concentrated upon them, and caught their speech.
"...why if they got them trapped in the place." Said one voice.
"We don't question orders, Bakshi. We obey. It's why we've become the most successful bandit gang in history!" rumbled another.
"Our fame is assured when we kill the Bandit Killer herself." A more youthful male snickered in glee.
"That's enough, Weasling. You heard the explosions. We can't desert our posts, because if those intruders don't escape, we could get attacked from behind." Milgazia blinked in mild surprise. The speaker was female. "That's our job-to keep them from escaping, or from being rescued."
"Greya's right." A fifth voice answered. "We're the best bandits the world has ever seen, and if we get to kill Lina Inverse, the Bandit Slayer, then nobody will ever dare defy us!"
Milgazia edged quietly around the tree trunk until he was safely hidden, reviewing all the multiple target spells he knew. He scowled at his options. Most of them had an explosive blast effect upon impact, and the explosions were not small, to hurt any more foes that might be ranged behind the set he would fight. He frowned at the terrain, for it was very much against him. This was the highest ground for some distance around, and he could not slip by the sentries. He needed to eliminate them as quietly as he could, so not to give away their position to other sentries who might be nearby. The single-target, and quiet spells he did have, would mean he would have to get in range.
Carefully, so not to startle her into a pain-filled moan, Milgazia knelt and leaned Lina against the tree. Her eyes slowly opened and looked at him questioningly, their normal jewel brightness dulled in agony. He held up a finger to his lips, then gently let her hear his thoughts.
There are sentries blocking our way. I will take them out as swiftly as I can. Please wait here for me.
Lina's eyes widened, then cleared with surprise at Milgazia's mindspeech, and as he had also opened his thoughts to hers, her foremost thoughts (and no deeper) were laid out for him to hear. He felt her flounder in confusion, and approved as she pulled herself back together and formed her response carefully, before attempting to send it back at him. He was certain there were spells in human sorcery to allow telepathic communion, but there was nothing like the intimacy of the touching of minds.
I'll wait here. I'll just get in your way...too weak to do more than think anyway...Eh. You watch your back out there, okay? Worry, frustration, irritation. These three emotions colored her thoughts and painted the image of Lina gnashing her teeth in annoyance. Milgazia withdrew his mind from hers before she would sense his laughter, so vivid was the emotion-picture of a Chibi-Lina stomping in impotent rage. He placed down most of the packs with her, tucked her cloak even more snugly around her, and picked up a stone. Lina watched as he crept away on all fours, and she wondered if the dirt and dried blood would ever wash out of his disgraced white robes.
Thump. Crack, snap!
There was no exclamation of surprise or "What was that?" from the five outlaw sentries. As one, they turned toward the sound, hands dropping to whatever weapons they had ready. One of them began to move toward where the noise had come, the others fanning out behind him to aid in surrounding their prey.
Like a rabbit startled from its hiding place, a tall blond man in once-white robes burst out of the bushes in the opposite direction, and ran down the path, stumbling and faltering as his skirts tangled in his legs.
Only the barest of hesitations gave the sorcerer a head start, then the guards chased after him, the musical twang of a bow and the rasping hiss of blades being unsheathed their battle cries. The arrow sang over his head as the mage tripped and went sprawling into the underbrush. Weasling leaped after him, drawing his sword high over his head.
Greya frowned, dropping back and letting the others harass the white robed man. He should have been able to run away, but he just lingered enough to let them keep him in sight. It seemed as though he was trying to keep them away from something...
Making a decision, Greya slipped away and backtracked. Word had spread that there had been a blond man accompanying the Bandit Killer. Of the Bandit Killer herself...there had been no sign.
Milgazia immediately rolled out of the way after faking the fall he had taken. As he had expected, a bandit landed next to him, his sword driving deep into the dirt where the dragon had fallen. The Dragon Lord reached out and grasped the fallen man's sword arm, and whispered the words of his spell, Shocking Grasp, and let the magic become lightning. It did not tear through his victim, but seemed to gently caress him, wrapping the swordsman in writhing tendrils of blue-white light. The bandit tried to scream, but could not, his voice stolen from him in that instant. He slumped, twitching convulsively, as Milgazia let him go. In a single smooth motion no true human could have hoped to accomplish, he was back on his feet and running again.
Well acquainted with the deathly hiss of an arrow seeking his heart, Milgazia threw himself behind a tree, closing his eyes, and drawing upon his knowledge of magic once more. He selected his next spell and looked around him, his pupils flaring open to let him see in the dark. He nearly smiled when he found the thorny bush, low enough to still be green and springy, but not young enough to be easily broken. He caressed the spiny leaves, and spoke softly, as if naming the plant.
"Strangleweed."
He then watched in satisfaction as the bush began to stretch its young branches, the branches snaking out to become vines, vines that sought Milgazia's prey for him: the archer perched in a tree not too far away. He ran, not waiting to see his spell's effect. He knew that the vines would reach the archer, wrap him tight as he struggled. The more he struggled, the tighter the thorny vines would clasp him. Perhaps the thorns would keep him from too much protest...at least before the bush would strangle him, anyway. The bush's natural toughness, enhanced by Milgazia's sorcery, would make it very difficult for blades to cut the snaking tendrils.
Where are the other three? Milgazia wondered, as he slid down a leaf-filled slope. What thoughts he did have then fled as a bone-wrenching pain crunched around his ankle, and threw him to the ground with a shriek of surprise and agony no human throat could have ever produced.
Stunned, he was no longer aware of the two shadows that suddenly loomed over him.
Greya's heart leaped to her throat as the most frightening sound she had ever heard tore through the wood. She threw herself against the nearest tree, her eyes wildly searching for danger. When the last echoes of the inhuman screech had passed, she stepped cautiously away from the trunk, her pulse drumming in her ears. She took several deep breaths to steady herself, listening for any further noise, her sabre drawn though she never remembered pulling it from her scabbard. The dim glint of starlight upon the blade gave her focus, and the bandit maiden pulled herself together.
At first she thought that the tree trunk a few paces ahead of her was on fire, so vivid was the color of flame and blood. Upon closer inspection, Greya saw that it was not flame, but a long mane of hair that was the exact same color.
...She is a bringer of fire and destruction; and her hair is so like the fires around her the very touch of her locks on wood sets them ablaze. Her childlike laughter is demonic as she slays, and like a devil she has no mercy...
Recognizing the legend at once, Greya was struck by how young she looked. The Bandit Slayer was slumped against the tree, her face so pale that was visible even in the faint light, her eyes closed. She was tightly wrapped in her cloak as though to ward off a chill. One small, gloved hand held it tightly closed. Her breathing was harsh and swift, and every so often she murmured softly, as though she were feverish. The fabric of the cloak was black, and if it hadn't been for her brightly colored hair, Greya would have missed the bane of all bandits altogether.
She looks like a child, a sleeping child... Greya's hand tightened around her sword hilt. Stop it! That is her spell the deception she weaves to hide the truth of herself! I have here before me a chance like no other, and I will not fail!
Quietly, Greya inched across the forest floor, her sword poised to strike, trying to remain silent, like a serpent stalking her prey.
She failed.
In the instant that her foot crushed the twig, ruby-red eyes snapped wide open, nearly filling the small pale face in which they were set. They met wolf-gray ones and both women realized their danger.
Greya lunged forward, her sword tip leading, hoping to catch the sorceress by surprise. Lina's eyes sparked in frustration as she could not free her hands in time to cast a spell. She had only one option and took it.
She curled her body as tightly as she could into a ball, pushing herself sideways and onto the ground. She screamed as the blade stabbed through her poisoned arm and into her side, catching on her rib but going no further.
Another scream rent the air, a shriek of indescribable pain, of horror, of death.
Lina raised her head, then gasped in shock. The bandit maiden stood before her, her body pierced by several spears of darkness. One had struck through her eye, blasting out part of her head. Her body twitched convulsively, her shriek fading away to a soft, horrible gurgle.
Before she could die, she was further shredded, the cones of pure blackness ripping through her body as though it were not there. What precious little of the bandit was left fell with a loud plop to the ground as she disintegrated before Lina's eyes. Droplets of blood dewed the sorceress' ashen face like gemstones upon marble. Ruby eyes, wide with the beginnings of terror, flicked to the shadowed figure towering over the remains of the bandit girl.
This is it. I'm going to die. Milgazia can't save me now -- that was his scream I heard earlier. L-sama what happened to him? I --
Tan shoes tread disdainfully upon human flesh as if it were no different than the dirt upon which it lay. A black cloak swept over the blood-soaked ground, as if disdaining to sully itself with the remnants of the unworthy. The sharp end of a wooden staff stabbed through what had once been a human heart. Even in the darkness, Lina could see the softly glowing amethyst gaze of the staff's owner. She recognized him and relaxed, breathing his name in a sigh of relief.
"Xelloss..." even in her fevered and poisoned state, Lina managed a grin. "Damnit, couldn't you have given me some warning?" she broke off, coughing violently.
"You're welcome." Xelloss knelt and reached out to her. He pressed her against the tree trunk and held her still, looking at the blade still impaling her arm and side. His eyes flicked to Lina's grayish face. "Did it pierce the lung?"
Lina, still retching silently, managed to shake her head. The movement cost her greatly, and she slumped, only the whites of her eyes showing beneath half-closed eyelids, shock and poison finally sending her into oblivion. Her breathing continued, though it began to slow considerably until it seemed she was not breathing at all.
Cursing violently in the Mazoku tongue, Xelloss removed his duffel bag and placed it under Lina's head, forming a cushion. He eyed her critically, the little sorceress tightly cocooned in her own cloak. If she had been in any condition whatsoever to cast magic, she would not have been able to pull her hands out of her wrapping. Xelloss glared at the sabre sticking out from her side, despising it even more with each breath she took, and for once, cursing himself for his inability to heal her. As was natural for creatures bent on destruction, Xelloss could not heal anyone save himself, nor could he use any healing magics. Xelloss called upon his own power, and all his power was not meant to restore, but to destroy. He hated all the more to admit... that he needed Milgazia alive right now... if he wanted Lina to make it back to the encampment alive.
Thinking the most sulfurous curses he could remember, Xelloss teleported back to where he had last seen Milgazia -- caught in a giant bear trap. The ugly toothy kind. The Ryuzoku had been savaged with so much delicious agony that his sentient mind had briefly shut down and he had screamed in Ryuzoku before passing out. That moment of pain saved the Dragon Lord from a swift endless sleep.
The bandits had begun to overcome their fear at the incredibly inhuman shriek their human-looking prey had uttered several minutes ago. He lay now, in that strange state of being neither conscious nor unconscious. They already had decided that he should die, before he woke up fully. They approached him with almost painful slowness, taking the greatest of care not to make any sound at all, inching across the ground, their swords still sheathed to keep the blade from impeding their progress down the slope.
Xelloss waited to see if the fallen Ryuzoku would stir before anything happened. It would be ironic if he had to save this Dragon's life, he thought. He watched, growing more impatient, finding himself willing Milgazia to wake so Lina could be healed faster. Pride kept him from acting any earlier than seeing the Elder in mortal danger, and he would act no sooner. Tensely, he watched as the two bandits rose catlike to their feet and drew their blades, confident their victim was very much unconscious. With cruel grins they raised their swords, starlight catching and refracting off the metal that was soon to be dulled in blood.
Milgazia suddenly opened his eyes, and snarling, raised his hand and clenched his fingers into a fist. The ground erupted beneath his tormentors' feet, forming fang-filled jaws made of stone. The stone golem snapped its jaws upon the two, giving them no chance to scream in fright. Sharp stone stabbed into human flesh, the magical construct a giant replica of the trap that had felled the Dragon Elder in human form. Shrieks of agony were muted into soft horrible gurgles as blood spurted out of two human mouths. The bandits dropped their blades to push uselessly at the stone jaws of Milgazia's golem, eyes wide and pleading for mercy as Milgazia lowered his fist and sat up, golden eyes blazing with hate. The golem sank slowly back into the mountainside, dragging with it its still living prey to entomb them into the bedrock far below the soil.
Xelloss clapped appreciatively, having satisfied himself on the waves of terror and pain that had emanated from the two bandits -- it was a nice bonus to a very delicious revenge. "Inspired by your own predicament, Milgazia-san? I'll have you know those two suffered marvelously."
Milgazia awarded him with a scowl and silence, gingerly reaching for his savaged leg. In the blink of an eye, Xelloss was there next to him, and had pried open the jaws of the trap so swiftly Milgazia didn't have time to register that fact. The moment his nerves did however, the Dragon Lord turned several shades paler, but refused to show his weakness in front of his old nemesis. "Thank...you..." he gritted out, his fists digging into the loam of the forest floor.
"Don't mention it. Right now, Lina needs your help. I'll reserve my questions for later." Xelloss pulled Milgazia's arm over his shoulder and lent him his staff. Wrapping his free arm around Milgazia's waist, he felt the Ryuzoku stiffen briefly, and decided to let it pass without comment. It was only natural after all that Milgazia would have been happier if Xelloss were on a faraway continent instead of touching him; the Beast Priest reflected. We are in the unusual situation where both enemies need each other...and I need him to relax a bit.
Xelloss decided to float instead of climb. He knew that Milgazia at seen far worse, but the nerves that had been torn and ripped by the trap simply sent waves of agony pulsing through the Dragon Lord. Xelloss knew this, feeding on the Elder's pain.
"What happened?" Milgazia said softly, his voice low and barely concealing his torment.
Xelloss shrugged. "I found Lina skewered on a bandit's sabre. I got her would-be-murderer though."
Milgazia nodded. "Where was she struck?" Xelloss had to admit to himself that he liked that about Milgazia-the fact that he did not ask unnecessary questions that wasted time. No 'is she alive?' or such. The Ryuzoku went straight to the point and no nonsense. It made dealing with him so much easier.
"Through the arm and against her rib."
Milgazia nodded, remaining silent, envisioning the damage. He didn't have long to imagine before he saw the reality. He did not see Xelloss watching him carefully, nor was he conscious of the sudden change of expression his normally composed features underwent. For one brief moment, he was not aware of anything; not his pain, not the presence of the person he hated the most in the world next to him. All he saw was the tiny redheaded sorceress lying on her side, a sabre sticking out of her body, pinning her arm to her side.
Xelloss set him down next to Lina, and watched with barely controlled rage as the Dragon Lord knelt and reached out to touch Lina's throat. I need him right now. I can't kill him. I hate not being able to kill him for touching her. He thinks nothing of her but as a good friend and she thinks no more of him. I hate having to need him. Damned Ryuzoku.
Milgazia, having ascertained that Lina still lived, examined her arm. Gently, as though unwrapping a babe from its swaddling cloth, he peeled the tightly wrapped cloak from Lina's body, revealing her slender form. His eyes narrowed as he traced the blade that emerged from the inside of Lina's arm, and speared her side. Blood had already plastered the sorceress' pink tunic to her skin, and was beginning to congeal. He sighed in relief. It meant that the wound itself had ceased to bleed. "It's only a flesh wound."
"You can heal her easily then, can't you?" Xelloss eyed Val's egg, which was tightly clutched in Lina's other arm, pressing the precious thing into her stomach protectively, even unconscious. He understood then, why Lina was unable to protect herself properly.
"Not easily. I have to be selective in my healing of her." Milgazia replied.
"What do you mean?" Xelloss demanded, irked that Milgazia would not heal her completely. He relaxed when he heard the Ryuzoku's explanation-just a little. It was irrational, to be angry at Milgazia for something he had no control over, but he had to trust that diagnosis and hope Lina's immune system would fight off the poison in time.
Heaving a sigh of utter disgust, he looked down at the tall Ryuzoku, his once-dignified person a wreck, his clothes stained with blood and dirt. He looks like a specter of death, Xelloss thought. He smiled suddenly; the thought amused him for some reason.
Milgazia moved, grasping the sabre's handle with infinite care. Even with Xelloss' preternatural eyesight, he detected no movement of the weapon as the Elder's fingers wrapped around the leather-wrapped handle. His other hand began to glow a soft blue-white as he pressed his palm against her side, the slender blade sticking out from between his fingers.
The Beast Priest watched as Milgazia's expression settled into a strange, statue-like blankness, revealing the depth of the healing trance he was in. His golden eyes glazed over, no longer seeing the world around him, seeing what the magic saw, what he was allowed to heal and what he was not.
I could slay him. He would never waken, never feel it as I tear out his heart, Xelloss thought idly, wondering at the one he had deprived of family and friends so long ago. It cannot be trust that allows you to leave yourself so vulnerable in my presence. Do you truly respect me that much, Milgazia? Fool you are, but then you know I keep my word, and you are no human that must ask why. It is enough for you to know that I must keep Lina Inverse alive. It suits us both, so you help her. It suited us both to help her back then too, didn't it? And so you will save her again.
Xelloss blinked, realizing that Milgazia had, imperceptibly slowly, withdrawn the blade from Lina's side. Watching the Dragon Lord as he slid his fingers up the blade and pressed his palm lightly against the inside of Lina's forearm, Xelloss raised an eyebrow. Amethyst, cat-pupiled eyes darted to glance at the small tear where the sabre had cut through. The tiny rip showed Lina's pale skin, and it was smooth and pale. No scar remained, a testament of Milgazia's skill. Silently, Xelloss reassessed the kneeling Ryuzoku. His power had grown considerably since the two had fought against each other, a thousand years ago. The healing was complete, but had been so selective that the poison had remained in Lina's veins.
There was a whirring sound, and a thunk. Xelloss looked over his shoulder. The sabre was buried up to the hilt in a large boulder some twenty metres away, and the entranced Milgazia had thrown it the instant the blade had slid out of Lina's flesh. Xelloss unconsciously gripped his staff tighter, ready to strike.
But Milgazia only blinked, his eyes refocusing as he emerged from his healing trance. The Ryuzoku slumped, clutching his ruined leg with brightly glowing hands. Xelloss watched impassively as the flesh hurriedly knit and flowed back together. Even the Mazoku knew that Milgazia's hurried healing was only a half-measure, and unless it was attended to properly, the wound would reopen.
Gingerly, the tall Golden Dragon tested his partially healed leg, and found it supported his weight. He leaned on it, and winced. He would not be able to run very well on it, but it would do for now. He bent and began to pick up the packs, slinging them over his shoulders, then carefully wrapped Lina up in her cloak again.
He blinked in surprise as Xelloss picked her up. "I'll teleport ahead and put her under Sylphiel's care," the Mazoku Priest said, turning.
"No!" Milgazia reached out and grabbed Xelloss' cloak, and Xelloss swung back to face him, eyes open in disbelief and the beginnings of rage. "You can't teleport with her. She will likely die if you do." Hurriedly, the Ryuzoku explained about how Lina's illness had gotten worse when he'd made that very short jaunt from the fortress to the ground.
Xelloss frowned. "So that's why you two were just going on foot. You do realize that the entire place is filled with traps and more bandits?" he scowled. "Can't you just transform and fly her back?"
"And likely crush her under a falling tree when my tail gets too big? There isn't enough room. I'll carry her and you scout ahead." Milgazia held out his arms.
Xelloss' eyes flashed dangerously. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were ordering me around."
"Hardly," Milgazia replied with forced blandness. "Merely suggesting. The fewer obstacles there are from here to camp, the sooner we'll be there, and the sooner we can start fortifying ourselves."
"...Making impeccable sense, I see. Your people are lucky to have your brains, Milgazia, or they'd have been wiped off the face of this earth a thousand years ago." Xelloss handed Lina over with the greatest of reluctance.
"You certainly tried." Milgazia gritted, settling Lina protectively into his arms as though he expected Xelloss to attack instantly.
The Beast Priest snorted. "Call it survival of the fittest...I merely winnowed out the weak. You're much tougher now than your forefathers ever were." He floated several feet into the air. "I'll do as you suggest so brilliantly, Dragon Elder. Let any who stands in your path beware."
Milgazia eyed him warily, nodding curtly; the best he could manage by way of thanks. He could not summon up greater courtesy at the moment, remembering a slaughter of legendary proportions. He began to walk, moving steadily into a jog then a run, his thoughts divided between not tripping and the words of his nemesis.
Tougher?
Milgazia watched the Mazoku protecting him and Lina flit out of sight. We'll never know, will we?
Filia was having a very bad time. After flinging his dreadful accusation into her face, he had turned and gone back the way he came, ignoring her confused and eventually angry demands for information. She'd been forced to run after him, a predicament that was so undignified because her cloak and skirts kept catching on the underbrush, and she'd tripped on a leaf-buried root tangle, tearing the skirt at the knee and digging the dirt into the pink fabric.
She'd seen that Zelgadiss had spoken the truth when she stumbled into what had been their once snug encampment. Sylphiel, Amelia and Gourry were there, huddled around a fire and Gourry with his sword out at the ready. Their initial expressions of relief turned into astonishment as Zelgadiss bit out what had happened, his greenish-blue eyes sparking with his rage. Now the Chimera leaned moodily against the tree, arms crossed and glared furiously at the dirt of the forest floor, tense despite his seemingly relaxed sprawl amongst the gnarled roots.
"Filia-san, how could you have left the camp!? Everything was taken when you left it unguarded and you said you would stay behind!" Amelia cried, in obvious distress.
"Don't you understand?! I was provoked by that no good, filthy, pond-scummy Mazoku!" Filia replied defensively. "I wouldn't be surprised if he'd planned this just to make me look bad -- made me chase him and lose myself in the woods, then showed the bandits the camp to steal our belongings!"
Sylphiel looked up from where she was toasting mushrooms on a sticks; the former Shrine Maiden had foraged for food to tide herself, Amelia and Gourry over, and was roasting the mushroom caps stuffed with herbs and wild potato over the fire. Her resourcefulness given the situation was amazing. "Why would he do something like that? I don't know Xelloss very well, but if what you say is true, then that is very petty of him."
Filia looked at the black-haired woman with disbelief. "That's more than enough reason for a namagomi like Xelloss! He's a Mazoku! They live to cause trouble! He didn't help at all with any of the chores that needed doing in the camp or even help set up the tents! He certainly didn't help gather any firewood or water!"
"But that's just it, Filia...Xelloss is a Mazoku, and he doesn't really need to eat or sleep, at least, I don't think he sleeps the normal way... and I don't think the weather bothers him at all, so why help in any of those chores? It's not his responsibility to take care of any of those things." Gourry looked up, from where he'd been looking at the naked blade lying across his lap. He'd kept it drawn, ready to spring up and defend. Even with the blade's magic to warn him that a foe was near telling him that there was no hostile presence near, he'd nearly attacked Zelgadiss by mistake, he had been so tense. "It was your responsibility to take care of the camp and watch over our things though. You always tell us that we should take responsibility for our actions, Filia...why can't you do the same thing?"
"I would take responsibility if it were my FAULT!" Filia said, stomping her foot in frustration. "If Xelloss hadn't -- "
"If you hadn't left, you would have fulfilled your responsibility and your duty as a mother to be!" Zelgadiss snarled, uncoiling from where he sat. Filia turned to face him, her cheeks pink with anger and indignation. "If you hadn't left, you would have been here to fight off the bandits, or send up a warning that there was danger! If you hadn't left to chase after Xelloss, the camp would still be here! If you hadn't so impulsively followed your rage, Val's egg wouldn't have been stolen! Didn't think of that, did you? You have a responsibility to Val, if no one else!" Zelgadiss stabbed an accusing finger at the paling Dragon Maiden's face, as if restraining himself from striking her. "If you hadn't left, Milgazia and Lina wouldn't have run off to face an entire bandit camp alone! If you hadn't left -- "
" -- Lina would not have been wounded by bandits," stated a voice in a deadly calm, and controlled tone.
Gourry nearly dropped his sword in shock, and Sylphiel gasped in pure horror as they all turned to face the speaker.
Milgazia had returned.